


ZombieTale

by SaraTheKhaleesi



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Language, Badass Frisk, Badass Reader, Badass Sans, Badass characters, Blood, Chara Being Chara, Chara talks to frisk, Child Frisk, Depression, Emotional-Reader, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Female Chara, Female Frisk, Female Reader, Gore, Kill or be killed, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Pacifist Route, Protective Sans, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Sans is kinda scary, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teen Chara, Trust Issues, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, just a few, not quite underfell, not quite undertale, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraTheKhaleesi/pseuds/SaraTheKhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl coughed and spit her bloodied saliva at his feet. “<i>It’s Frisk.”</i></p><p>“Whatever, close enough.” The man then tucked his gun in the back of his dirty brown pants and pulled up Frisk, back to a stand, by the arm. “Let's get going while your demons are distracted. We wouldn’t want them findin’ us now would we?”</p><p>You stood behind one of the wooden pillars, completely encased with fear. You knew you were overhearing something you shouldn't, and you knew you really needed to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. There was obviously some kind of war going on between those two group of survivors, and you were not about to get caught in the middle.<br/>~<br/>An Undertale AU that takes place Post-Pacifist, where the surface is consumed by the Zombie Apocalypse and you (The Reader) is thrown into an unexpected journey with the most unexpected alliance. Multiple POV, Female Reader, Blood, Gore and Violence. Rating is M for now, but may change to Explicit due to sexual content later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the New Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dis·ease  
> /dəˈzēz/
> 
> _noun ___
> 
> __a disorder of structure or function in a human, animal, or plant, especially one that produces specific signs or symptoms or that affects a specific location and is not simply a direct result of physical injury._ _
> 
> __"The world was infected with an incurable disease that would eventually be the downfall of mankind.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Reader-Insert story, and the reader IS female. The rating is M as there will be Violence, Blood and Gore. However this may changed due to eventual Sexual Content later.

The sky was splashed with vibrant pink rays, while the setting sun slowly disappeared into the horizon. You stood on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. The brisk summer air, filling up your senses with that familiar metallic stench. You always made it a point to stop and watch the sunset. It gave you a sense of normalcy, a routine. No matter where you were, or what you were doing, as soon as twilight came your eyes were glued to the kaleidoscopic sky. It was undoubtedly beautiful from up here. The tranquil atmosphere washed over you, and for moment, you almost forgot about the horrors that roamed the streets just beneath you in the apocalyptic city.

Key word, _almost._

How _could_ you forget? With their obscure groans and monotonous moans, they were almost impossible to drown out. Sometimes, if you listened close enough, you could swear that they were calling you name between each of those inhuman sounds. Almost as if they were constantly trying to remind you that this was _their_ world now, and you were just living in it.

You remembered a time before they existed. A time before they ruined everything, and devoured the human race.  A time where you didn’t have to be afraid every time you closed your eyes. A time where you didn’t have to wonder where your next meal would come from, and if you would just be so much better off if you were to take that gun hoisted in the back of your jeans and turn it to your _head—_

No. 

You were stronger than that. You were stronger than _them_. You were alive, and they were _dead_. 

You still remembered, so perfectly, the exact moment the entire world went to shit.

You were standing in your kitchen on a Sunday afternoon. Your hands covered in soapy water as you scrubbed last night's leftovers off of the endless pile of dirty plates. It had been the day after your 21st birthday. Your parents had come over and the three of you had a long overdue family dinner. It had been awhile since you last seen them. Ever since you moved away for college you’ve been practically on your own.

You lived by yourself in an apartment, only a few blocks away from the university. It was small two-story home that had been remodeled into two separate apartments. The landlord, Olivia, lived on the first floor and had given you a pretty good deal for the place. She also owned the diner right across the street, and agreed to cut your rent in half if you were to waitress for her. She was a fairly older women, about mid 50’s with long golden hair that was always tied up into a neat bun. Her emerald eyes were intimidating at first glance, but once you got to know her she was actually pretty easy going. It wasn’t long before the too of you became good friends  and you started to call her your _mother away from home._

It was just like any other Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining and the city was filled with laughter. It was one of those days where the weather was just perfect, and everyone wanted to be outside. You, unfortunately, didn’t get to soak up the sunshine as you usually did most of your cleaning on Sundays. That was your only day off of work and school and as much as you would love to just ditch your responsibilities and say _fuck it,_ your OCD would kick in and you just couldn’t walk away from a messy house. 

As you continued to scrub away at the ceramic china, the sound of an urgent broadcast coming from your living room TV suddenly captured your attention.

_“This is an urgent message from the CDC. Around 3:30 P.M today, Dr. Elliott McCormick has issued a worldwide outbreak of an unknown disease.”_  

You turned around, pulling your hands out of the dirty dish water, and walked over and into your living room. You were so intrigued, you even forgot to grab a towel to dry them off with. Little droplets of water slowly dripped off of your fingertips and absorbed into the white carpeted floor.

_“McCormick states that this disease was first spotted in South Africa, several weeks back. From the research they were able to obtain, this disease has been categorized as deadly and has already killed thousands.”_

You felt a chill rush down your spine. The air suddenly felt very thick and it was almost like the world around you came to a screeching halt.

_“The CDC states that this disease is highly contagious and is spreading very quickly. Currently, there are over 50,000 reported cases over the last 15 days in just the United States alone.”_  

The news reporter stopped for a moment. Her hands clasped together tightly. So tight, that almost all of the color in her knuckles had drained away. Her eyes were filled with dread as she stared into the news camera. You could tell she was trying her best to remain calm and professional, but underneath everything, you could tell she was absolutely terrified.

_“The United States, as well as several other countries are currently being placed under quarantine in hopes to control this disease. All airports, boat docks and any other form of public transportation will shut down for the time being. For your own safety, please, stay in doors. Do not leave your homes for any reason. If you feel like you may have any of the symptoms, please call the emergency line right away.”_

*** 

Your memory was a bit blurry after that. After the initial announcement, the next few days flew by. Almost as if you had lost all sense of time, locked up in your small apartment. You had called your parents and spoke with your mom. They were stuck at the airport, along with hundreds of others.

_“Don’t worry, we’re fine. They're hopeful that the airports will be up and running rather soon.”_

 You had offered for them to come back and stay with you, but your mother immediately declined.

_“If we could, we would, but they’re not letting anybody leave._ _Don’t worry about us, just take care of yourself. We love you, ok?”_

Those last words echoed in your mind. She had sounded so hopeful, _so positive,_ that everything was going to be ok.

But it wasn’t.

The world would never be ok ever again.

Not with _them_ around.

You could still remember the screams and cries of innocents as the dead first began to tear their way through the city, slowly infecting every person they came in contact with. They spread like wildfire, devouring world city by city. Nobody understood how or why this was happening. This was the type of thing you would only ever see in the movies. You never, in a million years, thought that this would ever become a reality. That the human race would ever be endangered by their own mutant species.

You remembered how you ran down the old creaking stairs, fast and furiously, towards Olivia’s apartment and frantically pounded on the door hoping that her bright emerald eyes would greet you at any moment—

They didn’t though. It was already too late.

One of the dead had already gotten into her home and by the time you found her she—

She wasn’t Olivia anymore.

Her golden hair was stained red as it fell around her weeping skin. Her forest eyes were bloodshot and had turned to a gray mist.  Completely devoid of any color. Completely devoid of anything that pertained to the Olivia you once knew.

***

You bounced around a lot after that. Never staying in one city for far too long. It was better that way, to always be on the move. Your only goal was to survive. You would scour the city until there was nothing left to take and then you would be on your way. You had gotten pretty good at it too. You were able to sneak almost anywhere, as if you were invisible. It was imperative to be silent in a world like this. There were a lot of terrible people out there and sometimes, you thought they might be even worse than the dead.

So there you stood, on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse right in the center of the city you were currently scouring. The saturated sun was now completely behind the horizon, leaving the sky splattered pink and purple. Your thoughts and memories clouded around you. It was a quiet night so far. The only noises were a low hum from the dead down belong as they trudged along in the dim streets. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. It was time to get moving again. You didn’t want too, though. A part of you just wanted to stay here forever. Up here where the darkness enveloped you and the serene sound of silence would slice through you like a freshly sharpened knife. Up here where the dead couldn’t get to you and you could just sit here and pretend that none of this was real. That this was all just a terrible, terrible nightmare—

_—Bang, Bang—_  

Your eyes flew open and your mind went to a screeching halt. 

Gun shots. Definitely gun shots. 

You leaned over the edge of the rooftop, scanning the dark streets below. It was probably just another group of scavengers, which wasn’t uncommon. A lot of survivors tended to scavenge at night. It was easier to stay hidden, undetected, from the dead ( _and...well...people as well._ ) But there were no signs of people. All you could see was the dead, scattered throughout the abandoned streets. Their grotesque silhouettes were illuminated from the moonlit sky while the air smelled of rotting flesh and spoiled blood.

You leaned back, pulling yourself away from the rooftop edge. You had _definitely_ heard gunshots but you were not about to stick around and find out who they were from. People were dangerous nowadays, and the last thing you wanted was to get all mixed up into a group of psychotic survivors. You had done well so far, all on your own. You didn’t need anybody else. All you needed was to survive. To survive this hellish world and to hope that some day you would be free and all of your surviving would pay off.

You found the ladder that you had used to climb up onto the roof in the first place, and started to climb back down. The cold rusty metal felt harsh against your fragile skin. You jumped down onto the fire escape and pulled yourself through the broken warehouse window. You stood still for a moment allowing your eyes to adjust to the lighting change.

The room was encased in blackness, so thick that for a second, you were afraid that you’d be consumed alive if you went any further. You reached into your jeans pocket and fished around until you found your zippo lighter. You flipped open the top and pulled back your thumb, turning the darkness into a dim orange glow which then revealed graffiti covered walls and bloodstained floors that were littered with trash and broken pieces of glass.

You made your way across the room towards the exit. You could feel the heat on your thumb as the uneasy flame flickered with every cautious step you took. You approached the large metal door that separated you from the outside. You hesitated. Your hand hovering over the worn brass door handle. A feeling of dread started to slip its way around you, and you didn't know why, but you felt as if something was very,  _very_ wrong. As if someone, or _something,_ was watching you. And maybe you were just being paranoid now, but you could _swear_  that when you had first came through the warehouse, you _left the door ajar._  

But now it was closed. 

You had left it open, _hadn’t you?_

 

“Move it, little girl.”

 

A voice from the other side of the door caused you to jump backwards and drop your lighter. The room suddenly returning back to its dark ominous state. You bent down and frantically searched for your lighter. You could already feel the splinters in your hands as they brushed over the old wooden floorboards.

_Come on, come on, come on—_

Your breathing quicken as your anxiety climbed higher and higher inside of you.

 

“The more you fight, the worse it’s gonna get for you.”

  

You heard the voice again, this time it was much closer to the door as if they were right outside. Frightened, you gave up on trying to find your lighter and ran for a place to hide. The room was small and wide open, which left very few options for hiding spots. There was however a pillar, over in the corner of the room. You ran to it and slipped behind, just in time, as the heavy front door swung open.

The first thing you saw was a man, large with big broad shoulders. His hair was an oily black that fell into his eyes. Matching his hair, was a tangly black beard, which very obviously hadn’t been cleaned or groomed in a very long time. From what you could see through the darkness, his skin was fair. Illuminated in the moonlight, he almost looked as white as a ghost. Clutched in his right hand that was outstretched in front of him, was a gun. It took you a moment to realize that gun was aimed directly at the back of the head of, what appeared to be, a little girl stumbling in front of him.

Unlike the man, the little girl was very small and looked no older than eleven years old. She had short brown hair that stopped right below her jaw line, and jagged bangs that fell into her deep brown eyes. Blood was splattered all over her clothes as well as dirt and mud. You could tell that the blood was fresh just from the way it glistened in the moonlight, and for a moment you wondered if it were the _dead’s_ or the _man's?_

The man grabbed at the girl's arm, jolting her to a stop. She squirmed at his touch, as she tried to get away, but the man was just too strong for her. She then opened her mouth, and the most unexpected and ferocious voice came barreling out.

“Let go of me!” She screamed, but the man paid no mind to her as he spun her around and pushed her up against the wall. He smiled a menacing smile as he pressed the gun against her forehead. 

“Not a chance, little girl. Maybe you and your demons should have thought twice before double crossing me and my people.” His voice was so deep and dark, it sent shivers down your spine.

“We _didn’t_ double cross you!” The girl protested.

“Then what the fuck would you call _that_ back there!?” He bellowed in her face, his breath blowing back her uneven bangs. “Hmmmmm?”

The two were silent for a moment. If you listened carefully, you could almost hear your own heartbeat banging against your rib cage. Finally, it was the little girl who spoke. Her voice was lathered with confidence, and maybe even a hint of sarcasm.

“You do realize, if you kill me, they _will_ hunt you and your people down until every last one of you is slaughtered.” A  sarcastic smile slowly began to creep across her lips. “You’ve seen what they’re capable of, why would you want to provoke them by taking me?”

He returned her smile with a sly smirk of his own. “I ain't _provoking_ nobody. I’m sending a message.”

“You’re starting a war.” She breathed. “A war that you will _not_ be able to win.”

Suddenly the man pulled his hand back and smacked it hard against the little girl’s frail cheek, causing her to fall down onto the hard splintered floor. With her now on her knees, you could really see just how tall the man really was.

Towering over her, he cocked his head. “You’ve got a smart mouth, don’t ya Frisky?”

The girl coughed and spit her bloodied saliva at his feet. “It’s _Frisk_.”

“Whatever, close enough.” The man then tucked his gun in the back of his dirty pants and pulled up Frisk, back to a stand, by the arm. “Let's get going while your demons are distracted. We wouldn’t want them findin’ us now would we?” 

The man pulled Frisk towards the broken window and pushed her through while following behind. Before you knew it, they were both gone and silence soon fell around you once again.

You peered around the wooden pole you were hiding behind and slithered out from the dark corner. You took a deep breath as you slowly pulled yourself towards the broken, warehouse window, and peaked through it. Thankfully, there was no sign of them, which allowed you to breath a huge sigh of relief. Already feeling like you’ve overstayed your welcome, you knew it was time to go. There was obviously some kind of war going on between those two group of survivors, and you were not about to get caught in the middle.

As you started to make you way towards the exit, you stopped abruptly, as something shiny caught your attention in your peripheral vision. You bent down, right where Frisk had been kneeled, and picked up a thin red ribbon. It’s edges were torn and frayed, but other then that the ribbon was still intact. It was soft and shiny and had definitely been used often.

Afraid that someone else would come and restrict you from leaving, you hastily shoved the ribbon in your pockets and proceded back towards the exit. Using your shoulder, you pushed open the heavy metal door and a rush of summer air greeted you, along with that unmistakable smell. You looked back once more at where you had found the ribbon, still a little puzzled on why it was so _conveniently_ placed, before disappearing entirely into the dark dead night.


	2. The Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hunt·ed  
> /hən(t)əd/
> 
> _adjective_
> 
> being pursued or searched for.
> 
> "The skeleton hunted the human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realllly quick, I just want to say THANK YOU. Thank you to every, single, one of you who actually took the time to read my story. I'm so happy that you all are enjoying this, and I can't even wait to give you more. You guys are the inspiration that I need in order to keep going.

You found yourself surrounded by a misty fog, as the silvery storm clouds began to weep over the forest. The lustrous water droplets landed softly against your blood covered flesh, washing you clean of the dead’s residue. You could feel the earth rumble, gentle vibrations right underneath your feet as the roaring cracks of thunder bellowed throughout the woodlands. You were soaked almost instantly. Your sopping wet clothes clung to your figure and hung heavy on your body, while your hair cemented itself to your head and proceeded to drip into your eyes.

You pushed yourself further and further through the flooded forest. Your feet sinking into muddied ground with every step you took. It had been almost three days since the warehouse incident. Three days since you cowered behind that pillar, as an innocent little girl was dragged off against her will. And you didn’t know _why_ you felt like a coward, you were only protecting yourself. The man that held the little girl was _huge_ , there was no possible way you would have been able to take him. If anything, he probably would have captured you as well and done _god knows what with you—_

_You were only protecting yourself._

But then why did you feel _so_ guilty?

Why did you feel somewhat responsible for that little girl? It certainly wasn’t your fault she was taken. In fact, her capturing had absolutely nothing to do with you. You just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. She was nothing but a stranger. Why should you risk _your own life_ for someone that has no significance to you?

_You were only protecting yourself._

_You did what you had to do to survive._

You wiped your hand across your forehead, brushing your dripping hair out of your eyes. The cool storm breeze sent shivers down your spine and rose goosebumps to your fragile skin. Your vision became blurry, your legs weak as you wrestled with the nothingness that was your declining mental state. Slowly drowning, suffocating as your conflicting and contradicting thoughts swirled around you like a raging hurricane. Waves of self-pity and hatred splashed over you, while gust of guilt lathered winds screamed throughout your eardrums.

Whenever you let your mind wander, and granted the silence permission you always found yourself battling with your mind. Like a chain reaction. You start off thinking about one thing, and then somehow, end up thinking about million things all at once until you’re choking on your own salty tears. And this wasn’t uncommon for you. You had always struggled with mental illness. In fact, you’ve dealt with it almost your whole life. You were a constant emotional headcase, and sometimes your mind was so deadly.

It was times like these where you felt afraid of yourself. Afraid of the silence, afraid of the numbness, afraid that one day you would just give into the storm and let the violence of your imagination take hold of you. It was times like these where you felt so incredibly unstable and _tired_. Tired of fighting, tired of running, tired of living, _just—tired_.

It took everything you had as you desperately tried to control your mind, and if it weren't for the screeching slams of thunder you would have never even noticed that you were no longer climbing through the mossy forest, but now standing in the middle of an endless road.

The gray mist enveloped you as the harsh storm pounded against the cracked concrete. You found yourself wrapping your arms around your drenched body in hopes to shelter your skin from the insistent sting of the rain, as your lungs filled with a cool brutal wind. Above you, the sky pulsated with electric veins, turning the atmosphere from a dead gray to a vibrant purple. And although the electricity only last a mere few seconds, it was astoundingly mesmerizing to watch.

Soaked, cold and tired, you pressed on down the road. At this point, you didn’t even have a set destination. You just wanted to get away, to find any sort of peace that might be left in this world. And maybe that was just wishful thinking, but it was all you had to go by. You had to believe that there was still some good in this world. That eventually the world would recover, and everything would be alright. And honestly, if you didn’t at least believe in _something_ , what was the point of _living?_ The point of _surviving?_

_Why don’t you just end it already?_

_You have nothing—_

_You’re alone—_

_You’re a terrible person—_

_That little girl is probably_ **_dead_ ** _because of you—_

_You’re selfish—_

_You’re_ _so_ _selfish—_

_You don’t deserve to_ _LIVE_ _._

You were crying now. The salty mixture combined with the tasteless raindrops leaked into your mouth and burned your cracked lips. Your brain was running rampant at about a million miles a minute, and you didn’t know how to stop it. You were having an episode. You needed to calm down, you needed to _fight_ , you needed to—

You stopped.

You couldn’t walk any further. Someone had blocked your path, preventing you from continuing down the street.

It was a man, about your age. He stood across from you, very clearly out of breath, as if he was just running. His wet golden hair curled around his pale face, as his sapphire eyes sank into yours. He was hunched over, his lean hand clutched over his right shoulder and oozing past the slits between his fingers was a thick crimson liquid.

He was bleeding.

He was hurt, 

Should you….. _help him?_

_Don't’ be ridiculous. How could you possibly help this man, if you can’t even help yourself?_

Your hands reached around to your back and grasped at the handle of your full loaded handgun, you gaze never leaving his. You were both deathly still as the pouring rain hummed against the earth. You drew a ragged breath, and parted your lips, but it was him who spoke first.

“Please. I need help. ”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. You just stared at him. Stared at the trails of blood, draining through his fingertips and slowly dripping onto the jagged ground, and then washing and mixing away with the rain.

He noticed you staring.

“Please, I—I’m hurt. Somethi—....some _one_  is after me— _hunting_ me, and if we don’t hurry he’ll find us. And when he does, there will be no mercy. ”

You were silent. Your hand still gripped tightly around the silver gun that was tucked firmly in the back of your pants. The beating of your heart was so loud, you could almost hear it over the persisting banter of the storm. A flash of lightning lit up the sky as a lump began to form in your throat, but you opened your mouth anyway and somehow managed to find your vocals.

“Who’s after you?"

The man ground his teeth and started to hobble closer to you. You jumped back and threw both of your arms in front of you, now aiming your weapon in his direction. Both of your trembling hands were clasped around the cold steal as your middle finger rest gently over the trigger.

The man stopped then, his expression now a little fearful. “Please, you have to listen to me. I won't hurt you, but _he will._  You have to help me and get us out of here!"

You still didn’t move. Instead, you pulled you back you finger. Positioning it a bit more firmly on the trigger.

“Please,” his voice was much more urgent this time. “We are running out of time—”

And unfortunately for him, time  _had_ run out before he even finished speaking. His words were abruptly halted by a large object, now impaled, right through his abdomen.

You felt your breath hitch at the sight that was now presented in front of you. Blood seeped through his already soaked tee-shirt and began to stain it red. His voice choked as his hands immediately went to the spear-like object. It was a pure white with long streaks of red, as the rain had already began to clean off his blood. As you fixed your eyes upon the weapon, the man fell to his knees, his eyes were now locking with yours. You held your gun so tight, you could feel your fingers going numb.

The man opened his mouth, but was unable to speak. Blood began to drip from his mouth, down his chin and onto the rumbling earth before he fell over completely, landing onto his back.

You watched his chest, rise and fall a few times, before it stopped completely.

And then he was still.

You were frozen in place. Your arms, still outstretched in front of you and your hands squeezed around your weapon. The world surrounding you became eerily quiet. Even the rain had begun to lighten up to a soft and steady pitter patter. You were scared, you were _so_ scared, and every part of you wanted to run. But something held you in your place. Whether it was fear or courage, you didn’t _move_ , you didn’t _run_ , you just stood there. Staring at the golden-haired man’s dead body. His blood beginning to pool around him and his crystal eyes remaining open as he laid flat against the cold ground.

_He was going to turn soon._

_You should just leave….._

The thick misty fog then began to slowly wither away, giving you better view of what lied ahead further down the road.

…..

_There was someone standing in the distance._

They appeared to being wearing some kind of jacket, with a large hood that covered the entirety of their face. You couldn’t see any defining facial features, the remnants of the fog were still to thick, but what you could see were two glowing white eyes peeking out from under the hood.

_Why are you still here?_

_You should be running—_

And you wanted to run, you _really_ wanted to run, but you couldn’t move. It was as if a force was keeping you in place, prohibiting you from fleeing.

You were _so_ scared.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you were this scared. Not when the dead had first risen, not when you had found Olivia, not even when you were completely alone and starving to death, were you as scared as you were now. There was something about that figure that absolutely _terrified_ you. Maybe it was the way they just stood there, maybe it was those glowing eyes that almost didn’t even look _human,_ or maybe it was how they had just murdered an injured man who was pleading for your help—

Were they the ones the golden-haired man was talking about? The one who was chasing him—

The figure started to walk towards you, and you startled yourself when you realized you had called out to them in a rough, raspy voice.

“Don’t.”

The figure had stopped when you called out to them. Their arms hung loosely beside their body as they cocked their head to the side. You heard a low grumble come from their direction. It was deep and intimidating and only fueled your fear even more.

_They were laughing._

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, you heard the figure’s voice, which shattered the silence that had encased the world around you.  
  
“heya. hehe, it’s nice to meet you too.”


	3. No Hard Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear was coursing, fast and furiously, throughout your entire body. You felt as if you couldn’t breath. As if you were suffocating within yourself. Drenched in the blackness that was your frightened mind. You dug, deep within your sputtering soul and somehow managed to grasp a hold of your quaking voice. You parted your lips and practically choked on your own saliva as you spoke. 
> 
> _“You’re not human…..What **are** you?”_
> 
> He smiled, and you instantly regretted your question as he opened his mouth and let his frightening voice pierce through the chilling air.
> 
> _“i’m the worst kind of monster.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK UPDATE! 
> 
> I have a schedule now! You guys can officially expect a new chapter of this EVERY OTHER FRIDAY AT 8PM EST!
> 
> ~ THAT'S ALL FOR NOW FRIENDS! ~

 

**~ Chapter Three ~**

**No Hard Feelings**

 

 

Your entire body felt numb. Numb to the cool rain that dripped upon your delicate skin. Numb to the hard lump that had forced its way into your throat. Numb to the repeated and harsh thump, that banged against your rib cage, as you stood motionless in front of the dark, hooded figure. Their voice had pierced through your numbness, like an arrow would pierce through flesh. Soft, swift, and completely unexpected. It, quite literally, took your breath away. Their voice was unlike anything you had ever heard before. It was so intriguing, yet so absolutely _terrifying_. You swallowed hard as their glowing eyes locked with yours. Burning into you with anticipation. The anticipation of your response…

  
  


You hadn’t responded yet, to them, have you?

  
  


No. You hadn’t. You just stood there. Frozen, with your hands wrapped around your weapon. Frozen with so much fear, you had completely gone numb to your surroundings, and for a moment, you weren’t even sure if this was reality, or just another one of your sick mental episodes—

  
  


“not much of a talker, huh?”

  
  


Their voice, once again, buzzed through the shield of numbness you had encased yourself with and pulled you back from your flying mind. This time they sounded different, though. This time, their voice was louder, lighter, and more….. _sarcastic_. You chewed at your bottom lip as you scanned through your brain for a response. You were starting to panic now. You were starting to come down from your numbness and started to realized the severity of the situation.

 

They began to walk towards you again. Their boots, slamming into the cold, soaked concrete.

  


You felt your voice, tingle at the back of your throat before you roared in their direction, _“I said don’t_ **_fucking_ ** _move.”_

  


They stopped, however this time, much closer to you. So close, that you could see the outline of their figure much clearer now. It was a man’s figure, that stood before you. Big broad shoulders, with a wide abdomen and a long neck. Your eyes went to his face, but unfortunately it was still shaded by the large hood from his jacket. All you could see were those two white eyes, surrounded by a thick, inky blackness. And if you looked long enough, it appeared as if one of the eyes were glowing blue.

  


You felt the earth rumble as he chuckled lightly under his breath. “you’re feisty, _i like that_ .” They moved again. Slowly, but surely, creeping over to where you were frozen in place. “ _i can appreciate that_.”

  


You felt your finger, pull back on the trigger, ready to fire. Your entire body was trembling, and your teeth were clenched as you shouted. “ _I mean it! I’ll_ **_shoot_ ** _!_ ”

  


But the man didn’t stop. He kept walking, closer and closer until he was only a mere few feet in front of you. His thick blue jacket, glistened in the fresh sun, that was just now beginning to peek through the grayscale clouds as the rain storm had finally come to a standstill. You shivered as a cool breeze rolled over your flesh and out of the corner of your eye, you could almost make out a faint rainbow, plastered against the recovering sky. You gripped you gun as tightly as you could, and everything in your mind was telling you to pull the trigger. But you didn’t. You just stood there, as the man casually lifted his pale fingers to his furry hood, knocking it back and revealing his identity.

  


“ _no_ ,” he breathed. “you _won’t_ shoot. you don’t have the _courage_.”

  
 

He was right. Any courage that you had once built up inside of you, quickly scurried away as you took in the features of his face.

  


_If—if you could even call it that._

  


He had no flesh. _None_. Nothing but bare bones, shining as pure as white could get.

  
  


His face—it wasn’t a _face_ at all.

  


_It was a skull._

  


_He—_

  


_He was a skeleton._

  
  


“but even if you _did_ , **_somehow_ ** , manage to pull that pretty, little, trigger,” He flashed you a set of incredibly sharp teeth and deep within his left eye socket, a bright blue flame began to emerge. “it’s not like it would do much damage.”

  


You. Were. _Peterfied_.

  


Fear was coursing, fast and furiously, throughout your entire body. You felt as if you couldn’t breath. As if you were suffocating within yourself. Drenched in the blackness that was your frightened mind. You dug, deep within your sputtering soul and somehow managed to grasp a hold of your quaking voice. You parted you lips and practically choked on your own saliva as you spoke.

  


“You’re not _human…..What_ **_are_ ** _you?_ ”

  


He smiled, and you instantly regretted your question as he opened his mouth and let his frightening voice pierce through the chilling air.

  
  
  


“ ** _i’m the worst kind of monster_ ** **.** ”

  
  
  


Silence.

  


Numbness, clawed over you, leaving you completely exposed and naked to his frigid words.

  


“now, if i were _you_ ,” His voice was like a thousand knives, all stabbing into you at once.

  
  


“ ** _i’d drop my fucking weapon_ ** _.”_

  
  


You obeyed. You weren’t in control of your actions anymore. You had completely given into the raging storm inside and let fright overthrow you. You carefully placed your weapon on the ground in front of you, never leaving eye contact with him. You knew what was going to happen. What was going to come next. For so long, you dreamt of this moment. You dreamt to be taken from this destroyed world and hoped that you would wake up somewhere better. Somewhere happier. Where you could see your parents again. Where you could see Olivia again, the _real_ Olivia. So many times you dreamt of this moment, and finally— _finally—_ it was going to happen.

  
  


You were going to die.

  
  


The skeleton kicked the gun out of your reach, and then slowly bent down to grab it for himself. He examined it for a moment, running his smooth phalanges over the cool, metal exterior, before pushing you down, onto your knees, and fixating the barrel right between your eyes

  
  


“ _no hard feelings_. i hope you understand.”

  
  


You shut your eyes and thought of a better place. A better world, filled with better people. A place where everything was—

  
  
  


_“Sans!”_

  
  


A new voice, slithered its way into your eardrums. It was distant and choppy, and sounded as if it were coming from a radio of some kind. You could feel the skeleton in front of you shift slightly, moving himself closer to you, but other then that, he seemed to ignore the voice completely. Were you imagining things? You could swear you had heard another voice….A woman's voice to be exact. You wanted to open your eyes, but something inside of you kept them shut as you felt the touch of cool metal, being placed firmly against your forehead. His bones, clacking together as he gripped and adjusted the gun in his hands.

  


You waited, patiently, for him to pull the trigger.

  
  
  


For him to end it.

  
  
  


You waited.

  
  
  


And waited….

  
  
  


And _waited_ …..

  
  
  


And—

  
  
  


“ _Sans, are you there?_ ”

  
  
  


The woman's voice came at you again, louder and more urgent sounding. You licked your lips nervously as you heard the skeleton in front of you sigh roughly. Something was wrong. You could tell. He would have killed you already if—

  
  
  


“ _Sans, for fucks sake, would it kill you to pick up your walkie_?”

  
  


The skeleton sighed again, his hot breath grazing your face as he pulled back the gun, away from your head. You heard him fumbling with something, before his agitated voice came barreling out, catching you off guard and causing you to jump a little.

  
  


“ _what_.” he practically growled.

  
  


You were confused now. What was happen? Slowly, you forced yourself to open your eyes, the golden light, stinging, as you peeled them apart. Everything was blurry at first, probably from tightness you held your eyes at, but after a few seconds, the surrounding world balanced out and became clear again.

  


The first thing you were greeted with, were the skeleton’s white, glowing pupils, staring you down with the deadliest of stares. He had backed up a bit, you noticed, putting a little bit of distance between you and him. You felt a little twinge of hope, for only a second, before soon realizing that the sliver gun was still clenched tightly between his skeletal fingers and aimed in your direction. You also noticed that his other hand was occupied with something as well. It was a small, grey, radio with a long antenna on the top. He held the radio close to his mouth, while his white pupils dug into you as if he were saying silently ‘ _don’t fucking move_ ’.

  


“ _Jesus christ, I’ve been trying to get you for hours. Where the fuck have you been_?” The woman's voice blared through the small speaker of the walkie.

  


“i’ve been _busy_ ,” he said coldly, never leaving eye contact with you.

  


You heard the women sigh over the speaker before saying, “ _Well, did you get him? Did you get Troy?_ ”

  


Sans was silent for a moment. Clearly contemplating and choosing his next words carefully. “yeah, i found him” his voice was so deep, you could swear you felt the earth vibrate with every word he spoke. His pupils then flicked over to the dead body, rotting in the sun, before locking back with yours again. “ _he’s dead_.”

  


The women over the walkie responded almost immediately. “ _Wha-dead?! How!_ ”

  
  


“he ran.”

  
  


“ _YOU KILLED HIM?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, SANS?!_ ” The woman's voice was now blasting through the speaker. Sharp and piercing sounds of static came cracking through, causing you to flinch at the volume of her voice. “ _WE_ **_NEEDED_ ** _HIM. ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! THE PLAN WAS TO BRING HIM BACK_ **_ALIVE._ ** ”

  


Sans didn’t move, in fact, he barely flinched at the women’s harsh and stinging words. He just stood there, gun in one hand and the walkie in the other while his eyes were locked with yours. He looked so _cold_ , so _terrifying_ , yet...so _unsure_ of himself as the women continued to scold him through the walkie talkie.

  


_“Tori is going to_ **_kill you_ ** . _You just fucked yourself,_ **_royally_ ** _._ ”

  
  
  


Silence.

  
  
  


Sans just stood there, completely at a loss for words, while his left eye was now completely engulfed by a licking blue flame. He looked so conflicted as he stared into you. As if he wasn’t sure about anything anymore. You wondered if you could talk him down. If maybe you could convince him to let you go. Feeling a burst of confidence flood through your veins, you opened your mouth to speak, but just as you began to search for your voice, Sans’ expression changed. He pulled his mouth up into a clever smile and his eyes were then filled with a certain _drive_ , as if he had just out maneuvered his greatest enemy.

  
  


  
“don’t worry about tori. _i got a plan_.”

  
  
  


“ _What pla-_ ” The woman's voice was quickly interrupted as Sans had flipped the radio switch, completely shutting it off. He clipped it back onto his belt as he walked over to you and pulled you roughly, back up to a stand.

  
  


_What was he doing?_

  
  


“ _walk_.” He stood behind you now as he shoved the barrel of the gun to the back of your head forcefully.

  


“ _Wait-_ ” you tired to speak out to him, but in return, your words were cut short as he pushed you forward and slammed the gun even harder into your skull.

  


“ _i said,_ **_walk_ ** _._ ”

  


And _walk_ you did. You didn’t dare speak out to him again. You obeyed, and somehow managed to shuffle your feet forward, creeping down the long endless road. You walked by the golden-haired boy, and took notice that the white, spear-like, object was still penetrated through his dead body as the surrounding concrete was stained red. You shivered at the sight as well as the brisk wind that flicked against your skin. You lifted your gaze to the brilliant sun, that was just now beginning to sink behind the horizon. The familiar waves of pink and purple painted the sky as you smiled softly to yourself.

  
  
  
  
You always did love watching the sunset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmmmmm so yeah...I made Sans _a lot_ scarier then I originally anticipated. OH WELL. heh.
> 
> Next Chapter Release Date: 7/17/16 around 8PM EST (I KNOW I LITERALLY JUST SAID EVERY OTHER FRIDAY BUT I FORGOT I'M GOING CAMPING THE WEEK OF 7/11.....sorry.)
> 
> Follow My [Tumblr](http://littleladyyred.tumblr.com/) for Updates and more Undertale trash.
> 
> Check out my other works!  
> [Fifty Shades of Blue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7341463/chapters/16676668)


	4. Obsidian Gates of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As your eyes began to flicker close, the cool night breeze sent chills through your body and somewhat jolted you awake. Before you knew it, or even had time to wrap your head around what was happening, the large black gate that stood before you, slowly but surely, began to unseal.

**~ Chapter Four ~**

**Obsidian Gates of Hell**

  
  
  


The colossal moon hung blissfully over the dead world, while the iridescent stars glittered against the black canvas, that was the night sky. The air was filled with silence and dread, as you dragged your pulsating feet down the never ending road. It felt as if you had been walking for hours. Every step, feeling as if you were treading on a thousand shards of shattered glass. Your legs felt like putty as you hung your head in exhaustion. Every now and again, you would close your eyes and let the waves of your imagination take hold. You would pretend that you were somewhere else. Somewhere _happy_ and _inviting_ , where the birds sang, and the rivers ran clear, instead of red. You would pretend that that you weren’t currently being held at gunpoint, (by man who was _no man_ at all) and that you weren’t currently walking to your, _most certain_ , death.

 

You could hear the murderous skeleton drift silently behind you. His bones clacking together, ever so slightly, whenever he took a heavy step. You wondered if he was just as tired as you? His pace _had_ slowed down, significantly, since the two of you had started walking. You even noticed that he was no longer roughly pressing the steal weapon in between your shoulder blades, but now just gently hovering it, a few inches away from your aching back. He had been silent the entire walk thus far. Only communicating through small pushes and shoves, indicating you which way to go. His silence sank into you like a sharp pair of fangs, slowly draining you of your confidence and instead replacing it with uncertainty.

 

You wondered what was going through his mind right now. You wondered what the hell this “ _plan_ ” was, and how the hell you were going to fit into it. You felt as if your brain was swarming. Thoughts and fears, flying around inside, creating a constant buzz that would surely make anyone to go insane. Questions, dipped in and out of your mind, and you somehow felt yourself unconsciously grind your teeth and clench your fists, until your knuckles turned white.

  
  
  


_Who was he?_

  


**_What_ ** _was he?_

  


_Why was he doing this?_

  


_Where was he taking you?_

  


_Why didn’t he just kill you?_

  
  
  


You head was spinning out of control with all these unanswered questions. You felt an anger began boil at the base of your soul. The heated bubbles, gradually rising to the surface as your emotions quickly went into overdrive.You felt as if you were going to explode, erupt like a unstable volcano, ready to destroy whatever laid in your path. Any fright that once had a grasp on your soul, had now melted away with a boiling rage. You had the right to know _what the hell_ was going on, and you had the right to know what _the fuck_ his intentions were. And maybe this was a risky move, but you were _sick_ of his silence, and you _wanted answers_.

 

Completely ignoring all of the warning signals, that were sounding off in your mind right now, you narrowed eyes and parted you lips as you let the lava of your anger seep out of your mouth.

  
  
  


“ _Where are we going?_ ”

  
  


Silence.

 

Not even a single grunt or chuckle from his mouth.

  
  


His silence only made your temper rise.

  


“ _Why are you taking me?_ ” you asked again, your voice now dipping into almost a low growl.

  
  


...

  


Silence.

 

He ignored you as if you weren’t even there.

  
  


“ ** _Why aren't you answering me?_ ** ” You were furious now. You’ve had enough with his silence, and you’ve had enough with being that frightened girl, that had taken over your body. You were stronger than _her_ , and you were ready to take control of the situation.

  
  


_You would_ **_not_ ** _go down without a fight._

  


_All of your surviving would not be for_ **_nothing_ ** _._

  
  
  


_“why you gotta ask twenty-_ **_mother fuckin’_ ** _\- questions?”_

  
  
  


You felt the gun push against your back forcefully, as his bitter lathered voice snaked through his teeth.

  


_Good_ , you thought. At least now he’s _responding_ to you.

  


“I have the right to know if I’m _marching_ to my death.” You snaked back, your voice just as bitter as his.

  


He shifted slightly behind you, bones cracking and creaking as he cocked his head and readjusted his body. He was silent again. He must have been taken back by your sudden boldness. You had been so quiet and dainty the whole walk, he was probably surprised that you _actually_ had it in you. You felt your lips tug into a sly, triumphant smile, just as you heard a low, barely audible grumble, slither from behind you.

  
  


He was laughing.

  
  


_Why was he laughing?_

  
  


“ _What’s so funny?_ ” you practically snarled.

  
  


His laughing continued into a deep chuckle. “heh, nothing _doll_.”

  
  


Oh, _fuck_ , no.

  
  


You stopped in your tracks, causing him to stumble into the back of you. You knew that was probably a bad move. You knew he was probably furious from your abrupt halt, without his command, and you knew he was probably ready to tear your neck open, but you _didn’t care_. Your fury boiled over to the point where you weren’t thinking clearly. You turned your head over your shoulder, barely catching a glimpse of his white dilated pupils, before snarling,

  


“ _I am_ **_not_ ** _your_ **_doll_ ** _._ ”

  


Silence. Absolute, pure, deathly silence loomed in the air as you braced yourself for his response.

  
  


….but none came….

  
  


You could feel the blood drain from your face as your fright clawed at you, desperate to become uncaged again, but you resisted. You were **_not_ ** afraid of him. You wouldn't _allow_ yourself to be afraid of him. Being afraid was pointless. You would _not_ let the nuisance of fear take hold of you again. Not after just breaking free. Not after finally finding your confidence. You shut your eyes and held your breath as the mute world carved into your soul—

  
  


_You._

 

_Are._

 

_Not._

 

 **_Afraid_ ** _._

  
  


Without dropping your guard, or uncaging your fear, you sawed through the silence with your newly found ferocious tongue.

  


“No _respons—_ ” before you could even finish, you felt the skeleton’s cold, boney hands, wrap around your mouth, prohibiting you from speaking. He pulled you backwards while pressing his body tightly up against yours, locking you into an unmovable position. You could feel the weight of his ribs, jabbing into your (already sore) back, causing you to inhale sharply at the sudden discomfort.

  


“ _shhhhhhh_ ,” he snapped harshly into your ear as he tighten his phalanges over your mouth. The stale taste of dried blood and nicotine, slowly trickling its way over your cracked lips and into your dry mouth.

 

By this point, your fear had kicked in the cage and escaped throughout the rest of your quivering body. You did your best to remain calm, and to remind yourself that you were stronger than him, but the situation at hand was proving this to be quite difficult. Just as you were about to struggle within his grasp, he spoke again, causing your voice to die in the back of your throat.

 

“ _somebody's comin’_.” The skeleton growled. You held still against him and listened for any sign that would point to another presence, but you found none. The air was dead. **_No_** _—the_ _world_ was dead. It was as if everything had suddenly dropped to halt, and into to an eerie standstill. Even the wind that whispered among the trees and grazed across your flesh had eradicated into nothingness.

  


You tried to open your mouth underneath his hands, desperate to project your voice, only for him to clamp them down even harder. You went to scream, but noticed that your vocals had seeped into a mute as your eyes caught a glimpse of a bright pair of white lights, gradually climbing down the road.

  
  


Headlights.

  


Somebody _was_ coming.

  


“ _fuck,_ ” he mummered under his breath as he dragged you off the road and behind a large, mossy, fallen tree. You could feel insects already begin to climb up your leg and onto your clothes as you crouched behind the rotting timber, while the skeleton still held his dirty hands firmly over your mouth. Almost seconds after he situated the two of you, making sure you were out of sight, a large black pick up truck rolled up, right where the two of you had been standing, and stopped abruptly.

 

The onyx truck stayed stationary while the milky moon and shining stars, bounced off of the paint gracefully, causing almost a glitter effect in the dead night. You peered over your coverage and squinted your eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was inside, but it was far too dark to see anything, especially with the overpowering headlights, practically blinding you and making it impossible to see. You twisted your neck, trying to get a better view, and felt the skeleton behind you pull you back harshly. Before you could even react to the sudden pain from his sharp fingers digging into your flesh, your eyes flickered over the the truck, and took notice of two figures stepping out.

 

The first figure you were able to make out was a man. He stepped in front of the truck’s headlights, which illuminated him and allowed you to take in his features. He was very tall, and had large, brood shoulders. He wore black cargo pants, which were tucked haphazardly into a pair of slick, black, combat boots, while his thin back tee-shirt clung perfectly to his very muscular body. His skin was as pale as the moon and his hair as black as the night sky. As you looked to his face, you felt something in the pit of your stomach stir within you. Across his square-like jaw, was a very poorly groomed, back snarly beard accompanied by a familiar pair of dark, murderous eyes.

  
  


You...you’ve seen this man before, _haven’t you_?

  
  


At the warehouse….

  
  


...with…

  
  


_With the little girl_ …

  
  


The black-haired man began to walk around. His boots crunching the dirt with every heavy step. Gripped tightly in his hands, was a large rife, held at eye level, while he surveyed the area. You felt the skeleton stiffen behind you when the man turned his weapon towards where to two of you were crouched. His hands tightened around your mouth while his bones set off a slight vibration.

  
  


Was... _Was the skeleton scared_?

  
  


Or…

  
  


Was he just angry?

  
  


Did….he recognize the _man too_?

  
  


There was something else going on here. Something else you just didn’t quite understand….

  
  
  


As you carefully watched the man, pace back in forth in front of the fallen tree, you (and the trembling skeleton behind you) practically jumped at the sound of another car door opening. Your eyes flickered back to the truck to see another figure stepping out from the passenger seat.

  


Only this one, was a girl.

  


She looked no older than sixteen, with skin just as pale as the man's. Her beaming ocean eyes glittered like the stars as her long, inky, hair fell gracefully around her heart shaped face. Her tattered blue jeans and silvery-white tee, looked worn and old as they hung loosely on her thin, petite figure.

  


The man glanced back at the girl, only for a second, before returning his attention back to his rifle and said, “I thought I told you to stay in the _truck._ ”

 

The teen-girl folded her arms and shot the man a glare. “ _Why_ are we stopped?”

 

“There’s one of _them_ around,” The man rasped. “ _I can smell em’_.”

 

A barely audible sigh pushed through the teens little pink lips before she responded with, “There’s no one here, Dad. _We’re alone_ . In the middle of _fucking_ nowhere.”

  
  


_Dad?_

  
  


_So….This was the man’s…._

  
  


_Daughter?_

  


“I _know_ one of them is here.” The man mumbled.

 

“And _so what_ if there is?” The teen challenged.

 

The bearded man glanced over at the teen, his crystal eyes burning into hers. “ _So what_ ? One of them **_killed_ ** Troy- _one of our own_!” he growled.

 

“Troy was a _rapist._ A **murder** -” The teen protested and the skeleton behind you seemed to flinch at her statement before her words were quickly cut off by her father's irate voice.

 

“He was _one of our own_. **_Period_**. Those demons need to pay for what they’ve done.”

 

“ _Monsters_ .” The teen snarled back. “They’re _Monsters_ , not _demons_. There _is_ a difference.” The world fell silent after the teen’s furious voice came to an end. The only sound was from the soft wind, brushing against the plush trees every now and again.

 

The man stood there for a moment. Clearly taking in the silence that loomed around him before saying, “You’ve been spending too much time with little _brat_. She’s turnin’ you against me. Against your own _people._ ”

  
  


“No.” the teen said flatly. “You’re doing that all _on your own._ ”

  
  


Almost as if time had stopped completely, the man froze in his tracks as the teens venomous voice echoed throughout the night. He averted her eyes, looking anywhere but the swirling sapphires that sank into him like poison. You locked your eyes on the man, so lost and intrigued in the conversation, that you had completely forgotten about the skeleton that was still holding you down by the mouth. His nails were digging into your cheeks,  drawing, paper thin, streaks of red, but you barely even took notice. You were far more invested in what was happening in front of you. Finally, when the man did conjure up his voice, you were taken back on how cold and deadly he sounded.

  
  


“Get in the _fucking truck,_ Claire.”

  
  


The teen seemed to immediately regret her choice of words. “ _Dad-I-_ ”

 

“ _Clarissa_ , get in the **_fucking truck_** _!_ ” He roared. You could almost feel vibrations come off of the ground as his voice bellowed throughout the world. Clarissa wasted no time in getting in the truck, and obeying her father's instructions. He took one last look around, stopping directly in front of the rotting tree you and the skeleton were positioned behind, before whipping back around and sliding into the driver's seat of the pick up truck, and taking off immediately.

  


Which left you, once again, alone with your skeleton captor.

  


As soon as the coast was clear, the skeleton removed his hand from your mouth and grasped around your upper arm. He hoisted you up to a stand and pulled you back onto the main road. You could tell that something was off. That _something_ was different with him. From the way he pulled you forward, further down the never ending road, or the way his bones gave off a slight tremble every time he took a step, you could tell that there was definitely something much deeper going on. He _must_ have known them. _He must have_. He wouldn’t have reacted the way he did, if he didn’t.

 

Before you could even catching your words, they already went flying out of your mouth. “You knew them. _Didn’t you_?”

  
  


Silence.

  
  


_Of course. Why would he respond to you?_

  
  


“ _I can tell_ ,” you breathed.

  


You expected your words to be followed by silence, but were surprised when you heard a low grumbled slip out from his mouth. “ _doesn’t matter._ ”

  


His words were cold and spoke for themselves. You could tell divulging further into that, would most likely be hazardous to your health, so you refrain yourself from asking any further questions as he dragged your further down the road. You and the skeleton only walked for a bit longer, the silence flowing somewhat peacefully around you two, when you had finally reached a large, black gate.

  


You felt sudden relief and terror flow through you.

 

After what literary felt like days of walking on glass, you were finally here. You had finally made it to whatever _hell_ he was bringing you to.

  


You were finally going to see what his ‘ _plan_ ’ was, and how you fit into it.

  


The gate was unlike anything you had ever seen before. It was huge, maybe over 15 feet tall, and made of solid, black glass. As you and the skeleton approached closer and closer you noticed that there there were spikes as well, surrounding the the bottom half of the gate. On a few of the spikes, there were dead, impaled through the chest, growling and moaning, due to the fact that they were unable to move. Their rotting flesh hung off of their body, exposing some of their bones and muscle tissue, while their blood stained the dirt below them. It wasn’t until you had walked by them when the smell hit you like a bag full of bricks. The stench of rotting corpses was something you just couldn’t get use to, no matter how many dead you crossed.

 

Finally, the skeleton came to a halt. Still death gripping your upper left arm (which now felt completely numb), reached around to his belt with his free hand and grabbed the old, gray walkie talkie.

 

“ _doggo_ ,” the skeleton rasped. “it’s sans. _open the gates_.”

  


A few long seconds of silence passed before the walkie came to life.

  


“ _Who’s with you?_ ” A dark, deep, voice rolled through the speaker. If you listened closely, it almost sounded like a growl.

  


“ _It doesn’t concern you_.” The skeleton growled back, through the walkie.

  


You could feel his nails slicing through your fragile skin, as the blood trickled its way down your arm and dripped onto the earth below you. Your eyelids suddenly felt so heavy and your body, incredibly weak. All you wanted to do was sleep. All you wanted was to collapse and to never wake up, to never see this world again. As your eyes began to flicker close, the cool night breeze sent chills through your body and somewhat jolted you awake. Before you knew it, or even had time to wrap your head around what was happening, the large black gate that stood before you, slowly but surely, began to unseal.

  


You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness that projected in front of you. Light poured out from beyond the gate. Almost like an overflowing raging river, you were soaked in light as the skeleton dragged you forward. It almost felt as if you were going to heaven, and walking towards the gleaming, bright light, was going to bring to to a place of peace and serenity. A place filled with hope and love and-

  


No.

  
  


_You’re delusional._

  
  


_This isn’t heaven._

  
  


_You were being dragged through the obsidian gates of_ **_Hell._**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk about you guys, but POKEMON GO HAS TAKEN OVER MY LIFE. I've literally been avoiding all of my responsibilities (including working on this) and hunting for pokemon instead.
> 
> ...
> 
> I may have a problem.
> 
>  
> 
> ANYWAAAAAAAAY  
> Until next time *shoots finger guns*  
> Next Chapter Release Date: 7/29/16
> 
> *In Oprah Winfrey voice*  
> "YOU GET TUMBLR! AND YOOOOOOU GET A TUMBLR! EVERYBODY GETS A TUMBLR!"  
> [littleladyyred.tumblr.com](http://littleladyyred.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Do you like smut and fucking cute skeletons? THEN YOU'VE COME TO THE RIGHT PLACE.  
> [Fifty Shades of Blue](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7341463/chapters/16676668)


	5. Frisky Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mercy.” Her attention was brought back at the sound of your voice, her head turning and eyes landing once again with yours. “Everyone deserves a little bit of mercy.”
> 
> This time she smiled a sad kind of smile. Her voice light with a heavy undertone. “You sound like Frisk.”
> 
> Frisk…..
> 
> You recognize that name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy waz up????
> 
> Real quick so there's no confusion. This is where the different POV 's are gonna start to come in. So keep an eye out for that. It will be pretty obvious when the POV is changing.
> 
> Also, any bold text is Chara thinking/speaking to Frisk in her head. Any italics text is Frisk thinking/responding to Chara in her head.

**~ Chapter Five ~**

**Frisky Business**

  
  
  


 

 

 

“Ring around the rosy,”

  
  


**A Pocketful of posies,**

  
  


“Ashes, Ashes, we all fall,”

  
  


**Dead.**

  
  


“That’s not how the song goes,  **_Chara_ ** .”

  
  


**Are you sure,** **_Frisky_ ** **? That’s how I always sang it.**

  
  


A frustrated sigh pushed past Frisk’s pale lips as she laid flat against the cold cement floor. Her amber eyes fluttered open and were greeted with the dark night beginning to slowly peek into dawn. Rays of sunlight peered through the small barred window, illuminating and drowning her fair skin in gold. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she pulled herself to sit up straight. Her spine immediately cried out in pain, begging her to be still, but Frisk ignored the cries and carried through the movement, until her back was pressed firmly up against the stone cell wall.

 

_ How long has it been _ ? 

 

**Four days, 16 hours, 49 minutes, and 39 seconds**

 

Frisk rolled her eyes and pulled her knees into her chest. “You’ve been  _ counting _ ?” she said out loud.

 

**It’s not like I have anything better to do.**

 

Frisk closed her eyes and put her head in her knees. Her nose wrinkled as she caught the stench of blood and sweat, soaked into her jeans.

 

A horrible memory. She pushed it away, as far as she possibly could.

 

**You know you can talk about it, if you want.**

 

“If I wanted to talk about it, I would have already.” Frisk snarled.

  
  


“Talk bout’ what, darlin’?”

  
  


The sound of another presence in the small shack she was bound to, bounced off of the cell walls, causing Frisk to fling her head up instinctively. Even Chara seemed to flinch at the sudden approach of another human being.

 

It was  _ him. _

 

**What’s his name again?**

 

_ Let’s call him douchbag, _ Frisk mused. 

 

Chara chuckled.  **Good name.**

 

The man in question came right up to the cell bars, his dark eyes narrowed. He had changed clothes from the last time she’d seen him. Now wearing black jeans and a dirty red flannel. 

 

_ Still gross. _

 

“Whatcha doin’, Frisky? Raisin’ hell?” His words were sarcastic. He was trying to be funny. 

 

**Dick.**

 

“Oh yeah,” Frisk fired back with bitter words. “Because I can cause so much  _ shit _ in this tiny cell.” Sarcasm was her speciality.

 

Chara hummed with approval.

 

_ “So-fuckin-sassy,  _ this one.” The man slammed his calloused hands against the cell bars, in rhythm with every syllable. He was much closer now, his fingers now gripping the rusted metal. “You think you’re so cute,  _ dontcha?” _

 

**I don’t think I’m cute, I know I am.**

 

Frisk smirked, but didn’t repeat Chara’s words. She had nothing else to say to the man.

 

“Oh, so  _ now _ you wanna shut up?” Silence form inside the cell. The man clenched his teeth. “I ought a—”

 

_ “Dad!” _

 

Frisk’s attention was then brought to the black-haired teen that now pushed into the dimly lit room. Blue eyes wide with obvious irritation. Frisk recognized her immediately. 

 

_ Claire.  _

 

The man snapped his head to the girl, an angered sigh escaping his cracked lips. “What that fuck are you  _ doing!?” _

 

“What the fuck are  _ you _ doing?” Claire shot back. She marched over to the cell where Frisk was held and shot her father a glare that was colder than ice.

 

He straightened up at her approach, letting go of the cell bars. “I’m just havin’ a lil chat with our guest.”

 

“You mean  _ screaming _ match?” 

 

“It ain’t a screaming’ match if she ain’t screaming’ back.”

 

**Is it bad that I find this mildly entertaining?**

 

_ Hush. _

 

Claire scoffed. “Yelling at her isn’t gonna do shit.”

 

“I’m sorry, are you scolding me?” Her father eyed her incredulously. “Since when did you become the  _ parent _ ?”

 

“Since you started to act like a child.”

 

**Shots fired. I forgot how much I like her.**

 

_ Shhhhhhhh _

 

The man went to argue, his lips parted and brow furrowed, but Clarie didn’t give him a chance. “You’re needed outside.”

 

A sigh. A big long, irritated sigh filled the space around them. But her father didn’t argue as he stomped over to the exit and slammed the door shut.

 

**Good riddance.**

 

Claire turned towards Frisk, here eyes soft and apologetic. “I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

 

Frisk smirked and nodded her head. “Better now that he’s gone.”

 

“I know he’s been kind of an asshole-”

 

“Kind of?” Frisk scoffed.

 

“-But he really isn’t that bad.” Claire continued. “He’s just…..dealing with a lot.”

 

**Excuses, excuses.**

 

“That doesn’t excuse what he’s done.” Frisk agreed with Chara. Her father may not have always been bad, but after the incident, he certainly wasn’t  _ good _ anymore.

 

Claire sat down in front of the cell, her legs criss-crossed and hands folded in her lap. “I know, I know...Maybe I’m just biased because he’s my dad.”

 

Frisk scooted closer to the bars. “Not your fault he’s a dick. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

 

Claire smiled, dimples that Frisk had never noticed came out to play. “Listen to you. You sound so much older than you actually are.”

 

Frisk shrugged while Chara laughed. “I’ve been through some things. I’m not really a kid anymore. Not really, anyway.”

 

Claire didn’t respond, but instead gave a thoughtful nod. She understood what Frisk was going through. In a way, she was going though it herself. It's a tough world for a kid these days, and Claire wondered if there were any kids still out there preserved of their innocents? 

 

Frisk chewed her bottom lip. A habit she’s picked up. Tori would be glad she wasn’t biting her nails anymore…

 

_ Tori…. _

 

“Claire.” Frisk spoke, her voice filled with a sudden sense of urgency. “You’re not like the others. I trust you.” She pulled herself closer to the bars as Claire leaned in, the conversation dropping to a whisper. “Help me out of here. Help me get back to my group.”

 

This was not the first time Frisk had asked for this. No, she had asked nearly every day since her capture. Hoping and praying that Claire would one day wake up and realize that this was the right thing to do. Frisk had meant what she said. Claire was not like the others, not in the slightest. She was kind and compassionate and fierce and _strong._ She was determined. Determined to do the right thing. Determined to prove that not all of humanity was lost.

 

**Sounds familiar.**

 

Claire let go of a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her sight now set on the ground. This may not have been the first time Frisk had asked her of this, but this was the first time she had stayed this long to contemplate it. She played with her hands in her lap, picking at the dirt under her fingernails. 

 

Frisk reached out slowly and apprehensive as her slender arm went through the rusted bars, her hand landing right over Claire's. She stilled from the touch, but did not pull away. One beat, two beats, three heartbeats passed until she lifted her eyes from the cold stone floor and settled them on Frisk. Her lips parted, she was going to say something. And from the look on her face, this could finally be it. This could finally be the moment Frisk had been waiting for…

 

But it wasn’t.

 

No. It wasn’t. Claire pulled her hands from Frisk, almost as if the touch burned her and stood up briskly. She shook her head, voice uneasy. “I’m sorry, Frisk. I-I can’t. I-I have to go.”

 

And then, just like that, the moment and Claire were gone. Frisk and Chara were alone once more.

 

**Well, fuck.**

 

~

 

“What the actual  _ FUCK,  _ Sans?!” Her voice was furious. Fiery. Like the color of her hair. 

 

You tripped over the threshold as Sans pushed you through the gates. Bright. Everything was so bright. You were surrounded by lights. The kind of lights you would see at a football field. They were practically blinding, to say the least.

 

“nice to see you too.” You heard Sans chuckle from behind you.

 

As the women in question came into view, you realized she was no woman at all. Like Sans, she was alien. Inhuman.  _ Monstrous.  _ She looked of amphibious decent. With gills on her neck and webbed ears. Her eyes the color of gold. Vertical slit pupils eyed Sans down as she strode across the compound. 

 

“You have no fucking idea the of  _ shit storm _ you’ve started.” Her voice was cold. Icy. Like the color of her skin.

 

She may have not been human, but she certainly had human-like qualities. Long legs, hourglass figure, she was proportioned like a women. A hybrid, you mused. She wore a black sports bra, accentuating her breasts and sleek stomach muscles. Black cargo pants tucked into knee-high combat boots. Strapped to her back was a long arrowhead-spear. You got the feeling it was sharper then it looked.

 

“you’re being dramatic.” Sans grumbled. You felt the gun press into your back again, urging you forward. You complied, dragging your feet slowly across the dirt.

 

_ “Dramatic?!” _ The blue-women exclaimed. “Are you  _ fucking _ -” she stopped then, dead in her tracks. Her slitted pupils landed on you. 

 

You froze.

 

“Who the fuck is  _ she _ ?” Her voice was like venom. Her eyes inspecting every inch of you. You got the feeling she was sizing you up. Like the way a snake would size up their prey. 

 

You wet your lips nervously as Sans growled behind you. “ _ she’s _ my plan.”

 

_ “Plan?” _ She scoffed, her voice rising. “The plan was to bring back  _ Troy _ . Not whoever the fuck _ this _ is.”

 

“i don’t got time for this.” Sans pushed you forward. His left hand gripping your shoulder, as his right hand occupied the gun pressed firmly in between your shoulder blades. You stumped, almost falling onto your knees from the pressure, but the blue-women then stepped in front of you. Her webbed hand landing harshly into your chest. You felt the air leave your lungs.

 

“Where the _ fuck _ do you think you’re going?  _ We’re not finished!”   _ You could feel her breath on your lips as she shouted to Sans behind you. Her jagged sharp teeth just inches away from your flesh.

 

_ “get the fuck out of my-”  _

 

_ “I’m so fucking-” _

 

“Is there a reason the two of you are making a scene in  _ my _ courtyard?”

 

A new voice. Stern, soft and demanding interrupted Sans and the blue-women’s screaming match. You felt a new presence approach. The air shifting to a dead silence. The blue-women whipped around, while Sans went stiff. 

 

_ “Well?” _ The voice spoke again, closer this time. It was female, you realized. Her voice was mature. Aged. But not quite like an old women. No, she sounded almost like a mother scolding her two children. 

 

The blue-women tripped over her words. “Tori, we were-I was just-”

 

“Sans, good to see you’ve returned.” Tori ignored her, directing her attention to the deathly still skeleton behind you. The blue women stepped out of the way, leaving you exposed. Tori’s eyes met yours. “.....with a  _ guest _ .”

 

She was different. Different from Sans, and different from the blue-women. The first thought that came to your mind was,  _ she’s like me _ . Not quite a  _ person _ , but a  _ mammal _ . She had thick white fur that covered the entirety of her. Horns with a smooth finish sat upon her head, along with eyes the color of chocolate. Long floppy ears framed her face, and a snout that gave her the look of an animal. A goat, perhaps. You realized then, that she was dressed in attire you hadn’t seen in ages. A formal black dress that flowed to the ground. It reminded you of the way women back in the 18th century use to dress. Simple, elegant material. Nothing to intricate. But pretty all the same. She looked like she could be royalty.

 

“she’s not a guest. she’s a hostage.” Sans spoke up from behind you. The gun in his hand still  _ very _ present as he shoved it forcefully into your back. A reminder that he was still in control of the situation.

 

However, Tori’s eye’s said otherwise.

 

“Interesting.” She murmured as she brought her hand to your chin, her claw-like fingers resting uncomfortably close to your jugular. You could hardly breath as she scrutinized your features. Examining you as if you were some foreign creature. As if  _ you _ were the alien in the situation. She dropped her hand after a few moments, her gaze landing on Sans behind you. “If I do remember correctly, your orders were to bring back  _ Troy _ .”

 

Breath on the back of your neck. Sans sighed. Annoyed. “troy is a no go.”

 

Tori narrowed her eye’s. She looked much more intimidating like that. “And why’s that?”

 

Sans didn’t respond. 

 

This time it was Tori who sighed. She turned her head towards the blue-women. “Undyne, why don’t you bring our new guest to one of the isolation rooms. Me and Sans are going to have a little chat.” 

 

Undyne looked uncomfortable. She looked at Sans almost sympathetically before shaking her head and grabbing a hold of your arm. You hadn’t noticed at first, but her hands were moist. Slimy. Cold. 

 

“Come on.” She pulled you away from Sans, the heat from his body at last leaving you. You shivered at the loss of contact and the temperature of Undyne’s webbed hands. As she lead you through the courtyard, you turned back once more to see Sans. He looked so small compared to the black-dressed goat-women. So fragile.

 

You almost felt bad for him.

 

~

 

Turns out isolation rooms were just another word for  _ prison cells _ . They smelled musty from the chilled air. The sheets on the bed sticky and moist. You cringed as you laid down, finally resting your feet. Undyne had dumped you here, wordless and unphased as you questioned what would happen next. She didn’t respond of course. Just a slight grunt as she shut the steal door, cutting you off from the world.

 

You figured it was only a matter of time before they killed you. That’s usually what happened in these types of scenarios. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to briefly get some sleep. You were exhausted, to say the least. The events of the past 4 days completely stripping you of any energy. 

 

You were unsure how much time had passed when you awoke. Your vision disoriented, breath shallow. You heard the steal door slide open. Footsteps echoing throughout the small room. Tori’s voice pulled you from your slumber.

 

“I’m sorry dear, I did not mean to wake you.” You felt her sit at the end of the bed. You sat up then, rubbing your eyes. Your body screaming at the movement.

 

“Better some, then none.” Your voice was weak, soft. You were surprised if she even heard you at all. 

 

She smiled, lips pulling up into a small curve and you realize that you liked her very much. That she was so much different then the others of her species you’ve encountered. She treated you like person. She showed you mercy. 

 

“I am sorry about earlier. You’ll have to forgive my children. They can overbearing, I know.”

 

_ Children? _   “Sans and Undyne? They’re your children?” Your voice was louder this time. More solid. You pulled your knees to your chest as you spoke.

 

Tori laughed, a bright and bubbly laugh. The kind of laugh you would hear at a family gathering. Warm. Inviting. Homey. “Everyone here is my children. I’ve taken on the roll of  _ mom _ .”

 

It was your turn to smile. It felt foreign to you. When was the last time you _had_ smiled? It had been awhile, you assumed. But it felt nice. It felt normal. You liked this feeling very much. 

 

“Forgive me,” she shook her head. “I don’t believe we’ve had a proper introduction.” She lifted a hand to her chest. “I’m Toriel. Leader of this group.”

 

You had assumed as much, from her demeanor from earlier. You had so many questions, itching at the back of your throat, but you held your tongue. You didn’t want to push your luck. Although Toriel seemed to be showing you some mercy, you got the feeling that she could snap at any moment if you crossed her the wrong way.

 

“Thank you.” A whisper. A breath. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it slipped out. 

 

Toriel seemed confused. “For what, my dear?”

 

_ For not killing me? For treating me like a human being?  _ You contemplated. But did not respond with either of those things. Instead you went with, “For being kind.”

 

She smiled again. “Kindness is something that this world is quickly losing. I try remind myself that when dealing with your kind.” Her smile faltered slightly. “Some days are harder than others.”

 

_ Your kind. _ She said it with almost a sour taste in her mouth. You didn’t blame her. 

 

“Humanity is not what it use to be.” You mused. She nodded in agreement.

 

“I’ve had many years sit and dwell on the flaws of humanity.” She looked off into the distance, thoughtfully reminiscing another time. “After a while, I realized it was pointless. I realized everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt. Everyone should have a chance.” Toriel fell quite, her eyes shifting to the floor. “Although there are some that could debunk that statement.”

 

You got the feeling she was referencing someone. You wondered who it was.

 

“Mercy.” Her attention was brought back at the sound of your voice, her head turning and eyes landing once again with yours. “Everyone deserves a little bit of mercy.”

 

This time she smiled a sad kind of smile. Her voice light with a heavy undertone. “You sound like  _ Frisk. _ ”

 

_ Frisk….. _

 

You recognize that name.

 

“Did you say  _ Frisk _ ?” Words flowed from your mouth before you could even make the decision to stop them. “Little girl, right? Short brown hair, attitude like a lion?”

 

Toriel’s smile faded. She stiffened, jaw clenching slightly. Her voice shook with uncertainty. “How do you know her?”

 

You swallowed. You couldn’t lie. It was bad enough that you didn’t help the little girl to begin with. You at least owed it to her family to tell them what you saw.

 

And then you started questioning how  _ she _ knew  _ Frisk _ . Why would a little girl be grouped up with a bunch of... _ monsters _ ? Is that what they  _ were _ ? You remembered the conversation you overheard in the warehouse. The man….he had referenced her  _ demons _ . Did he mean them? Sans, Undyne, Toriel and the many other’s you’ve yet to meet. _ He must have been talking about them, _ you thought.

 

You felt Tori’s hand connect with your shoulder. Her grip was firm, a reminder that you hadn’t responded yet. 

 

“I….” Your voice faltered. Tori’s grip became firmer. “I don’t know her. I saw her.”

 

Tori’s eyes widened. Her voice urgent now.  _ “When?” _

 

“A few days ago.” You explained. “It was in a warehouse, in the city, a few miles from here. She was being taken….I think….by a man.”

 

Tori’s grip on your shoulder began to hurt. Her claws starting to dig into the exposed skin from your tank top. Her voice to a chillingly low growl. “ _ Harvey.” _

 

“I….I wanted to help, but I--”  _ Was weak? Scared? Selfish. _ All appropriate answers, yet none of them found their way from your throat. “I’m sorry.”

 

Her hand fell from your shoulder, eyes softening. “It’s not your fault. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

You wished you could comfort her. You wished you could do something to help. There had to be something you could do….

 

You remembered then. The fragile crimson material floating around in your pockets.

 

You pulled it out, unexpectedly. Emptying your pockets haphazardly. The soft material falling carelessly through your fingers as you handed it to Toriel.

 

“I found this, afterwards.” You told her. “I think she left it, maybe for one of you to find.”

 

Toril took the ribbon, cautious not to rip it anymore then it already was. She didn’t say anything as she lifted it to the light, examining it as if it were the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. The room was silent, except from the shallow breaths from Toriel. 

 

She stood up abruptly, the ribbon now grasped tightly in her fist. Her eyes were unfocused as she made her way to the door, voice trembling. “Forgive me, I...I must go.”

 

You leaned forward then, a weak attempt to stop her. Your voice cried out as a pathetic whine. Breathless.  _ “Wait!” _

 

She didn’t. The door closed with a  _ thud, _ and you were once again left alone to your devices. You leaned back against the bed, your eyes now staring at the moldy ceiling above you. One word formed on your lips as you closed your eyes and sighed.

 

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm back! In black!
> 
> I am finally returning after an extremely long break. I'm ready to get right back into the swing of things with writing and i couldn't be more excited! There is no update schedule. I've realized its just too much. I will update as much as I can. It may not be every week, but it won't be 2 years next time I promise! Thank you for all the love on this story! I couldn't be happier!
> 
> Also, new tumblr. Follow if ya want  
> sarathekhaleesi


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